Post

Sharaf woke up on a cold platform surrounded by rocks.

"You there, traveler." a voice uttered in the darkness.

"What... whe... where am I?" Sharaf asked.

"You have reached the place where all Zyfaqir resides after death until Judgment Day. I am merely an arbiter of two to judge your worth." the voice said.

"So... this is... Death, I speak to?" Sharaf asked.

"Yes. Of a sorts" the voice said.

"I see... it was... painful arriving here." Sharaf lamented.

"Of course it was. Do you have any recollection of your crimes?" Death said.

Sharaf stayed silent.

"Silence will not abate your fate. You will be judged, and your worth weighed against your crimes." Death said.

Sharaf stayed silent.

"Come here." Death said.

Sharaf levitated off the ground and appeared in a new room, with two people in red and blue suits respectively.

"You can figure out who we are, Sharaf." The two said in sync.

"Death and Life. The epitome of existence itself." Sharaf answered.

"Correct." The two said. "Now... shall we begin?"

"I suppose..."

“Good. You have… well… quite the reputation.” the two began.

Sharaf looked at the floor.

“For even some of your lighter crimes, this would put you in eternal suffering.” the two said.

“Yes…” Sharaf trailed off.

“However… there is another path.” the two said.

Sharaf looked up.

“We could send you in the form of a spiritual being to repent your sins and make amends.” the two said.

“What benefit would that do?” Sharaf said. “My crimes are inexcusable and I cannot repent them.”

“We are offering a chance at redemption.” the two said.

“Redemption…” Sharaf trailed off.

Haijja
Sumoriant
Presidential Palace

Jazaar perused over the mountain of paperwork in front of him. He took a swig of wine from the bottle beside him and clacked notes onto his computer.

And Sharaf appeared in front of him.

“Hello, old friend.” Sharaf said.

Jazaar dropped the bottle of wine and it shattered on the floor.

“Wha… there's no… h…” Jazaar trailed off in a startled and confused expression.

“It's been some time.” Sharaf said.

“I… how… why are…” Jazaar said. “This has to be my schizophrenia acting up again… how… How the f**k are you here?!”

“That's not important. All that's important is that I have come back for one simple reason: redemption.” Sharaf said.

“Yeah, bulls**t.” Jazaar said, pulling a revolver out of his desk drawer, cocking the trigger. “You have about five seconds to leave before I pull this trigger and fifty armed guards swarm this room.”

“I… I only wanted to try to make amends, but… I see that time has passed.” Sharaf said, disappearing into thin air.

Jazaar laid the revolver down on the desk in utter shock. This couldn't be real. Had he really just seen a dead man in front of him, alive and well? What the hell was Sharaf talking about with “redemption?”

Jazaar looked down at the floor, at the puddle of wine and shattered glass.

“I suppose I should get this cleaned up…” he said to himself.